


Consent is sexy

by HedgehogWrites



Series: Draco’s eventful days [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confident Harry, Consent is Sexy, Dom Harry, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pasta Carbonara, Sex Negotiation, light dom harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 18:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedgehogWrites/pseuds/HedgehogWrites
Summary: “Draco wakes up in Harry’s bed. Harry lies next to him, sound asleep. As he has no memory of getting in the bed himself, Harry must’ve carried him there. It makes Draco feel warm and fuzzy inside. The warm fuzziness starts to growl, drawing his attention to the fact that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.”Draco finally gives in and starts talking about his preferences with Harry. Harry who is, of course, confident about his own preferences and guides Draco through the talk.





	Consent is sexy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, dear readers! Thank you for following Draco’s eventful days. Kind comments and all of your kudos make me continue this series of short fics about Draco’s suddenly very active love life. This one can be read as a stand alone, but makes way more sense if your read ‘who knew you never deep throated before, Draco’ first. 
> 
> This story is about communication, about being clear about what you desire. It’s sexy to tell your significant other what you want and how you want it. I hope I did our lovely lads justice in this story, as both struggle in their own way after the war.
> 
> Not much smut in this one, just explicit mentions of it and a teasing start of a new smutventure. Sexy stuff I’ll gladly write into another eventful day. But not this day. This day is about talking.
> 
> Warning though: Draco has been raped and abused during the war. The previous story is a bit more detailed about this (nothing too explicit), but in this story he’s trying to get his thoughts in order. Harry and he mention the rape and Draco is making tiny steps on his way to acceptance. Also, Harry has been abused by aunt P. This fic mentions him having to do not age appropriate chores.
> 
> If one of these (or both!) triggers you, please don’t read. I don’t want you to feel bad because of my fic.

Draco wakes up in Harry’s bed. Harry lies next to him, sound asleep. As he has no memory of getting in the bed himself, Harry must’ve carried him there. It makes Draco feel warm and fuzzy inside. The warm fuzziness starts to growl, drawing his attention to the fact that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. And what a great breakfast it was, Draco thinks as flashes of Harry’s cock covered in omelette come to mind.

A quick Tempus tells him it’s seven PM. No wonder his stomach is growling.

Draco feels light as he gets up. Lighter than he has in years. It might have something to do with the conversation Harry and he had this morning. Was it just this morning? It feels ages ago.

Cautious to not wake Harry up, he slides out of bed and tiptoes to the door. The floorboards creak as he carefully distributes his weight on them. As silently as he can, he makes his way downstairs while buttoning his shirt.

It’s always strange, being in someone else’s kitchen, but Draco makes do. He finds some tagliatelle in a cupboard, and some eggs, Parmesan, bacon, onions, garlic and cream. And an unopened bottle of dry Martini. Perfect! Draco cooks the tagliatelle al dente, with just enough bite. He chops the onions, fries them until they are tender and translucent. He sets them apart and fries the bacon to a crispy perfection, then adds a splash of vermouth. He lets it bubble away, allowing it form a thick, salty and sweet syrup. He burns his tongue slightly while tasting the hot goo. Fuck!

Draco casts a cooling charm on his poor, affected tongue, immediately reducing the uncomfortable feeling. He adds the onions, garlic and pepper to the syrupped bacon. He picks up the eggs and separates the whites from the yolks. He adds four yolks and two whites to the cream in one of Harry’s colorful bowls (this one is bright yellow with turquoise stripes) and gently whisks them slightly fluffy, before draining the pasta and putting it with the bacon into another bowl. It has colorful dragons on it, flying around and breathing adorable puffs of smoke. The dragons look at him appreciatively, as if they agree with the recipe he’s making.

Carefully he folds in the cream and eggs and some pasta cooking water, softly tossing as he creates a thick, creamy, sinful sauce that clings lightly to each strand of tagliatelle. He grinds some fresh pepper over it.

Draco tastes a bit of pasta, its creamy, velvety texture melts away in his mouth, the rich, hearty, deep flavor makes him moan. ‘I would never have thought I’d be jealous of a strand of pasta, but here we are.’ Draco almost drops the bowl from shock. The dragons look at him angrily. He didn’t realize Harry had entered the kitchen. He looks up and finds him leaning in the doorframe, dressed in tight briefs, arms folded.

‘More men die of jealousy than of dragon pox, so best be careful with that.’ Draco quips.

‘Even more men die of gluttony, so with this food I’ll be long dead before the jealousy stands a change.’ Harry wiggles his eyebrows. Draco sniggers, as he starts grating the cheese. Harry makes his way over to Draco and tries to steal a strand of pasta from the bowl. Draco swats his hands away as he divides the pasta on two plates, grating extra cheese over it. He pours two Martini’s to go with it and floats the plates, over to the table. Both men dig in and eat silently for a while.

‘Where dit you learn to cook like this? The muggle way, I mean.’ Harry asks, when he’s finished his plate.

‘My mom taught me.’

‘Wow. She did a proper job at it. This dish is restaurant quality, love.’

Draco blushes a bit, feeling pleased with the compliment. ‘She thought me all kind of useful things one can do without magic. Ever since I was little, I relied on magic. My father wouldn’t let me do anything the muggle way. My mom too, or so I thought. One day I walked into the kitchen, wanting to steal a bit of pie and blame it on the peacocks, when I found my mom peeling apples. Watching her slender fingers was soothing and oddly relaxing, so I watched her from a corner, being as quiet as a mouse. Of course mum told me to either come in and help, or discard myself. So I started helping. She let me mix flour, butter and sugar with my fingers, creating perfect crumbles for the pie she was making. From then on every Sunday we prepared the most wonderful and strange dishes I had ever laid eyes on. I think my mother was truly happy when creating all this delicious food with her bare hands. She transferred her enthusiasm on me.’ Draco looks at Harry. ‘How come you can cook this well yourself? That omelette was restaurant quality too.’

Harry looks at him with a mixed expression. ‘My aunt forced me to. I could cook a three course meal when I was six, a perfect chocolate soufflé when I was seven and salt-crusted salmon with Bearnaise sauce when I was eight. I should hate her for it, but I’m sort of grateful she thought me this particular skill. I too find cooking the muggle way extremely relaxing. It clears my mind when I’m chopping carrots. When the nightmares were at their peak, I used to bake. Beating eggs, kneading dough, chopping apples, removing pits from cherries, anything to take my mind off. It worked like a charm. Only downside was that everyone around me got fat.’ Harry laughs. ‘Only thing I never could quite manage was treacle tart.’

‘I’ll teach you!’ Draco replies enthusiastically. ‘You know Mary Jewry’s* mom was a Malfoy? So we got the recipe first hand.’

‘She was a wizard?’

‘Well, what did you expect from someone creating a book with recipes that were close to perfection? And of course there were lots of other great cooks then. What, do you think, made her book the number one in the 1900’s?’ Draco grins. ‘That had to be magic, right? And a bit of good old Malfoy persuasion...’

Harry snorts. ‘Malfoys and their mob-like influence existed even then?’

‘Yep. I’ll tell you all about our good family name and the lovely Malfoy deeds.’ Another snort follows. ‘But not today, Harry.’ No, Draco thinks, not today. Today he has other things to learn and discuss. He casts his eyes downwards. ‘Today I really need to discuss precautions.’ Draco swallows a he looks at Harry through his lashes. He feels his heart beating so loud, it almost explodes in his chest.

Harry’s face splits into a toothy grin. ‘Sure?’

‘Yes. No. Maybe. I... Let’s just get it in with, okay? Before I change my fucking mind.’

‘Just this once I’ll condone your language, dear Draco, so let’s start. You or me?’

‘Please, you.’ Before I loose my courage to go through with this, Draco thinks. Before you think I’m crazy for wanting terrible things.

‘Okay. I love teasing, being in control. I love pushing you, testing boundaries. I will take care of you, but I expect you to signal me when you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop. I like bottoming, but I’m not adverse to topping either. I love blowjobs, deepthroating, rimming, dry fucking and handjobs, either on the giving or receiving end. Role playing and semi public sex are greatly encouraged as well as disobedience, as long as I get to punish you for it. I love a bit of pain and I like inflicting it.’ Harry licks his bottom lip as an almost sweet grin washes over his handsome face, while he clearly reminiscences some earlier inflicted or received pain.

‘I’m open to almost every kinky, dirty, strange scenario you want to try, but I also like a good, vanilla snog every now and then. I draw the line at borderline verbal and physical humiliation, fisting, strangulation, Imperious, Cruciatus, using animals, piss and poop. I’m clean, got my yearly checkup last month and only had protected sex afterwards. My safeword is Umbridge. Questions?’

Has it gotten warm in the room? Draco feels either room or he himself has heated up several degrees. He also feels something stirring in his pants. Something he didn’t expect after several rounds of mind blowing sex. Harry is great in bed and has an incredible experience. All of a sudden it makes Draco feel insecure. What is his sexual performances don’t satisfy Harry? What if he has had better? What if he’s so disappointed in what Draco wants, he can’t get it up anymore?

Suddenly he doesn’t know what to say anymore.

‘Draco?’ Harry looks at him inquiring. ‘Don’t overthink, love. Just tell me, okay?’

Draco swallows a lump in his throat. ‘I...’ His voice is strained.

Harry leans in and gives him a kiss. ‘You know I like you exactly for who you are, right? So tell me. It can’t be more kinky than the things I want to do with or to you’.

Draco swallows again. ‘I... I like being overpowered.’

‘Good start.’ Harry nods.

‘I like it when I’m forced, pushed or coaxed.’ Harry nods again, encouragingly. ‘I like pain. I like fighting. I likes sex. I like fighting that leads to sex.’ The look in Harry’s eyes, predatory and protective, makes him spill his secrets.

‘I like... I want to... I...’ He freezes. He can’t tell him this. Can he? His eyes travel downwards. He feels his eyes burning.

‘Draco, look at me. You would like to re-enact the things that happened to you?’ Harry looks him in the eye. Draco gulps as he nods almost imperceptible. ‘You must think I’m crazy?’ A silent tear slides down his left check. Harry gently wipes it away with his thumb.

‘No love, far from. I expected you would. It helps, or so I’m told. I don’t think I’m ready yet to give you this request. But when the time comes, I’ll do it without hesitation. Okay? I’ll do it for you. You’ll be in full control. But not yet, I can’t do this yet, okay? You first need to feel loved. Need to have been in control. Need to know when and that you are able to stop. To stop yourself and stop me. You need to know how precious you are to me.’ Harry’s earnest eyes fill Draco with warmth. He nods. He thinks he understands.

‘How do I know you’ve had enough?’ Harry asks after a long, comfortable silence.

‘Right, I’ll need a safe word too, don’t I? I can only stop you with a safe word?’

‘Not necessarily. We could also do a traffic light system. I’ll ask you if you’re green , and you reply with green, yellow or red. I’ll know when to go slow or stop. We do need a safe word, and we also need safe signals. For when you can’t talk, because, let’s say, your gagged or restrained.’ Draco wonders if the darkness in Harry’s eyes is mirrored in his own. If the tightness of his trousers is representative for the state of his pupils, he’s sure his eyes are blacker than ink. ‘We’ll discuss the signals later.’ Harry finishes.

‘Okay. I’d like that. I think Umbridge is good. I’ll use it too.’

‘What’s off limits?’ Harry asks.

‘The same as for you. I don’t like humiliation. Piss, poop. Unforgivables. Dungeons or being locked up in a cage. I want to when we re-enact, but not now. Not yet.’ Yes, that feels good. Harry knows what he wants and when both of them are ready, they’ll do it.

‘I do like... I... Oh my, this must sound fucking stupid.’

‘Nothing is, love.’

‘I... I like to have sex in animal form. But you said no animals.’

‘No animals is different from animagus or potion induced animal forms. That just you or me in a different form of ourselves.’ Draco nods.

‘I don’t want visible scarring in my face when we’ve got no time to heal it. I can’t take pain on my mark, believe me, I’ve tried. The skin doesn’t feel anything anymore.’ Just like Draco’s state of mind, before he joined the aurors. ‘Oh, and I don’t do threesomes.’

‘Really?’ Harry quirks up his brow. ‘Not even when I tell you I have a potion which can dupe- or triplicate me for an hour?’

Draco has to think of the quidditch manual being read by professor McGonagall to prevent coming in his pants, because the thought of Harry filling all his holes is suddenly overwhelming.

Harry grins cheekily. ‘Thought so’. Smug bastard.

‘Top? Bottom?’

‘I prefer bottoming, but I’ve never topped when with a man. They wouldn’t let me, you know.’ Draco replies in a small voice. It’s the first time he feels real emotion talking about it. Something other than anger or the feeling he somehow summoned his faith. Suddenly he realizes that all that’s happened to him, was not okay. He may have enjoyed it physically, but that doesn’t make it right. He didn’t have a choice. It feels strangely liberating to think like this.

‘You’ve never...? Never had sex after the war? Before yesterday?’ Harry’s expression is soft.

‘No, I’ve had sex. Just always relied on what I had done before. Never trying different stuff, I never trusted anyone.’

‘You do now? Trust me?’ Harry’s looks at him with a strangely conflicted expression. As if he doesn’t want to pressure him, but want nothing more than to hear he’s earned Draco’s trust.

Draco finds it inexplicably comforting to realize he does trust Harry.

‘Yes. With you I want to try new things. I didn’t know I could deep-throat. But I liked it. And you encouraged me and made me feel wanted and good at it.’

Harry grins so widely, for a second Draco is afraid he’ll split his lips. Harry gets up. ‘Now love, this wasn’t that hard, was it?’ Not waiting for the reply, because they both know how difficult the talk was for Draco, Harry takes his hands and coaxes him to the living room carpet. He pushes Draco on the soft plushness. ‘You liked deep-throating, right?’ Draco nods and obediently starts to unzip Harry’s fly. Harry pushes his hands away and Draco on his back as he straddles him. ‘Let me’. He kisses Draco fiercely before going down on him and swallowing him whole.

Draco doesn’t know why he’s so lucky to have this. Doesn’t know if it will last, because nothing ever does and he always ends up devastated. But before his train of thought can thunder down that particular depressing rail track, Harry’s mouth pulls the emergency brake and forces his brain to shut down. Pleasure spreads through him, making him moan and glow. Harry’s praise seeps through, his brain subconsciously registering how precious Harry finds him, how beautiful and how promising. Draco surrenders and lets go, his orgasm rippling though him on a wave of warm pleasure and newfound trust. He’s never come this peaceful in his whole life.

‘You’re gorgeous.’ He hears Harry tell him. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he? The most gorgeous thing I ever laid eyes on.’ What the?

He flings open his eyes, to see not one, but two Harry’s on the carpet as a third one enters through the door, wearing nothing but a lopsided grin.

This, he thinks, will be one long night. Luckily there’s a whole bowl of high-calorie pasta carbonara in his stomach. He’ll last. And if it gets too much? He knows he can back out with just one word. Lazily he surrenders and waits for the incredible things the Harries will have in store for him.

**Author's Note:**

> * Mary Jewry is the author of several influencal cookbooks in the 1900s. Hers is the earliest known recipe of Treacle Tart.
> 
> Just like Harry, I like to tease :). Do you want me to finish this foursome?
> 
> Edit: I’ve finished the foursome and made it an extra part of the series. Have fun reading!


End file.
